


Swipe Right

by MariaMediaOverThere



Category: Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: AU, Angst, Bad Ending, F/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Online Dating, Roommates, Tinder, alternative endings, cyndago - Freeform, good ending, kidswproblems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4779827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaMediaOverThere/pseuds/MariaMediaOverThere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>AU where Jack goes to LA and lives with Mark and the Cyndago boys for his stay. While there, Single!Jack gets hooked onto Tinder and Mark takes the task of driving him around to meet his dates.</i>
  <br/>
  <i></i>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <i>Mark's starting to show concern for Jack's habits. But only because he's his friend and he cares about him! Not because he's jealous! ...right?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "I don't mind"

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! You may or may not know me as MariaMediaHere on DeviantArt, the little dork who made Rooftop (SEPTICPLIER) comics. Holla at my harem if any of ya'll found this!

It has been exactly 22 days since Jack McLoughlin had landed in Los Angeles. The Irishman had found his temporary home in the Cyndago-Markiplier homestead, making a few sketches here and there, but mostly making extremely funny, albeit usually explicit gaming collabs with Mark at his side.

Mark on the other hand has been rambling non-stop- bouncing in excitement and beaming with delight at even the very thought of his internet friend just existing beside him for more than 4 days, playing his favorite games with him and just hanging out in general, even.

Despite his afore-hand repulsion of it; Jack actually transitioned smoothly into the city life, usually going about to see the sights or just to breath in the nightlife atmosphere. In this haven of unfounded dreams of fame did he find umpteen different bakery shops he all dubs ‘the best bakery in the world!’ from their indulgent and sinful selection of cookies and cake.

Unfortunately, Jack also found another addiction here.

 

**Tinder.**

This, of course, wouldn’t be a hassle if he had his own car. But the situation being that he didn’t; Mark graciously offered his services to drive him off to his internet-matched dates, to his later regret.

“Mark?” An Irish voice peeped from outside the door.

The American’s eyes shifted downward to take note of the page number he was currently on before inviting Jack in.

Steadily, the door creaked ajar and a headful of green hair popped up from behind his door.

“What’s up?” Mark set the book aside on his nightstand while clambering for purchase on his duvet to sit upright.

“I... I know I ask this of ye a lot, but-”

“New date again?” He struggled to fight back the scowl that was threatening to show on his lips.

Sure enough, this had been the 6th Tinder meet-up he has had since his arrival in Los Angeles. When Jack first meekly asked for a ride, Mark didn’t think much of it than a simple favor to his friend. But now? Now the situation was different.

It wasn’t necessarily that it was burden on him to drive his friend around. Rather, it was the aftermath of the drop-off that left a sour taste in the American’s mouth.

 

Jack would come bustling in somewhere between 4 and 8 in the morning, sometimes drunk, with a slew of purpling marks on his neck. Mark, being the early-bird that he is (unlike Daniel and Ryan), would be a witness to the stench of sweat and sex that Irishman reeked of as he quietly made his way to the guest bedroom.

These morning interactions were usually brief; Mark giving a curt “Good Morning” and Jack nodding politely before retreating to take a shower.

But it wasn’t even that that bothered Mark. It was the stories.

 

“So how was last night?” Daniel piped up from his place on the sofa; holding a carton of Chinese takeout in his hand and a pair of chopsticks in the other.

Jack rolled onto the couch from behind with a drawn out “Fuuuucking aamaaaaziiiing” while stifling giggles. “She was like- super cool, like a dentist or somethin’. Aw fuck, she had great teeth.”

“Maybe you should ask her to help you out.” Ryan quipped from the opposite couch with a smirk, gesturing to Jack’s mouth.

“Aw, fuck you! Suck my dick, Ryan.” Jack spat playfully, his hand flying out to cover his insecurity.

Daniel spoke through his mouthful of rice; “I’m sure you’ve had your fill, dude.”

The boys shared a moment of laughter before Jack waves a hand dismissively, getting distracted by the Gravity Falls episode showing on the TV in front of them.

...And if Mark was grinding his teeth, and even perhaps coming this close to cracking the mug in his hand from his tight grip from the kitchen behind the lounge room, well... Nobody had to know.

 

“Um, hello?”

Mark broke out of his stupor and pushed his glasses up his nose. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said yeah, Tinder date again... I mean, ya don’t haf’ta if ye don’t want’ta...”

There it was. A familiar tightening in his chest that always prevented him from saying no to anything Jack wanted; whether it be an extra dessert or another hour using the hot water, or even this...

“It’s okay.” Mark lied, “I don’t mind.”

At this, Jack’s face immediately brightened with excitement, “Really? Thanks Mark! It’s 3 hours from now, if that’s okay. I’m just gonna go get ready.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Jack turns away from his place in Mark’s doorway, “Thanks again! Love ya, Mark!”

The door shuts and the only sound that can be heard is Jack’s gleeful skipping down the hallway.

Mark exhales the breath he didn’t know he was holding before reaching over his nightstand and picking up the book he had left there.  
“Love you too, Jack.”


	2. I'm sinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not sink-y enough.

Mark groaned softly, running a hand through his hair at the realization of his current stale. He was bent over the sink, readjusting bolts and nuts without much of a purpose. He's often found himself to unknowingly tinker with the appliances when he was getting stressed.

"So what's bugging you?"

The American jumped a little in his skin, but quickly recovered, "Hey Matt." He feigned a smile, "Oh, this sink... It's just... Not uh- sink-y enough."

His editor chortled into his mug of hot chocolate. He had been leaning up against the doorway for the past few minutes, unbeknownst to Mark. "Right." Matt agreed.

He shuffled closer to his Korean-German friend and outstretched a hand for him to take. Mark graciously took it and hauled himself up off the kitchen floor, leaving his toolbox unceremoniously next to the rug.

"Is it... About Jack?"

His heartbeat spiked.  
Mark's blood ran cold at the thought that he had been found out. Suddenly, his throat felt tight. He strangled out, "What about Jack?"

"Oh you know, he always asks for rides and stuff, and you're too nice to say no. Really, Mark. I'm sure he understands. You don't have to spread yourself too thin between recordings and being a friend."

Mark let out an inwards sigh of relief and a hearty laugh, "Yeah." He hummed pointedly as he clasped Matt's back. "I already said yes to this one, though. Next time, I'll say no."

He quickly bent down to pick up his tools before skirting around Matt to get to his room before he might accidentally let slide his real discomforts. Gratefully, he had not been found out as of yet. Matt still spoke up before he could disappear into the corner:

"We both know you won't."

He froze in place.

 

Then trudged on feeling heavier than before.

 

-

"Mark!"

A hand flew out from the guest room that he was passing by and got him by the collar- pulling him in towards the room.

The said room was bare and pale blue, as a guest bedroom should be. Sean's clothes lay scattered on the floor and heaps of them were piled on the bed.

Recomposing himself, Mark looked up to see a very frantic- and shirtless- Jack holding him by the hem of his shirt.

"Mark I don't know what to wear."

Mark pulled the most unamused look he muster.

"Mark, I'm serious! Nothing looks good!" Sean had turned on his heel and went to fish out a few shirts that were on the duvet.

"I'm thinking red and these jeans, but I don't know... It looks too angry? I didn't want to wear my American Eagle shirt. She might think I'm a douche who cares too much! But I don't want to look like I don't care enough..."

The Irishman continued to ramble on as Mark took in Jack's form. His ripped jeans hung low on his slender hips, and he had only one sock on. Jack's bare torso was covered with a blue sweatshirt before Mark could carry on with his musings.

Jack spun around and outstretched his arms, his face eager, "How do I look?"

"With your eyes, Jack."

A beat had passed before a grin broke into the Irish's face, "I fuckin' hate ya.". He looked down on himself, smoothing the creases of his sweatshirt. "But quit yer sass. Is this okay?"

"It... It..." Mark swallowed hard, "It's good. It brings out the blue in your eyes."

Jack's eyebrows shot up near his hairline, and he cocked and eyebrow, "Really?" He challenged.

Against this better judgement, the American pressed, "I mean it. Swear to God! It flatters you." He gestured vaguely.

Jack seemed to be taken aback. Letting out a small 'Hmph' before giggling, "That's pretty gay."

"Like your shirt."

Jack mocked a dramatic gasp, "How dare you!"

Mark shook his head, sharing a small chuckle, while making his way out the door. "No. It looks nice. She- She'll love it."

The Irishman looked up to see Mark's retreating figure escape his room. He swore he heard him say something, a murmur or a snide remark. He dismissed it.

Mark couldn't hold back his tongue. He spat quietly, "But I do more.", holding his breath, hoping it didn't fall on anyone else's ears but himself.

**Author's Note:**

> This story will have 2 endings- good and bad.


End file.
